


Best Hunt Ever

by hunters_retreat



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Time, Graphic Sex, Incest, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5392433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was not sharing a bed with Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Hunt Ever

 

This was fucking it.

Dean Winchester could do a lot of things for a hunt.  He could dig up graves and salt the doors and windows for safety.  He could live through the stench of a wendigo in flames and he could be assailed by killer bugs.  He could impersonate federal officers and stare down monsters who tried to hurt the innocent (and his family).  He could even spend eight hours in a touchy feely retreat, pretending to be Sam’s lover.

But this?  This was too much.

He was not sharing a bed with Sam.

“Is there a problem, Dean?”

Sam was watching him too closely but even if Sam had noticed how off he was today, there was no way he understood why.  “Throw me a pillow, Sam, I’ll take the couch.”

The retreat’s cabins were really nice actually and if it hadn’t been for the whole ‘pretend to be in love with your brother’ thing he’d actually be enjoying this hunt.  The problem wasn’t even pretending he and Sam were partners.  Hell, they were always in each other’s space, spent more time together than any two people had a right to and still be talking to one another.  No one questioned them as a couple.  Not because Sam kept holding his hand or placing kisses on his cheek when Dean wasn’t watching for it, but because Dean always ordered sides of whatever Sam liked and let him eat off his plate.  They thought it because of the way Sam straightened out the back of Dean’s shirt when they got up, or how they were always so aware of where the other one was.  It was a lifetime of shared intimacy that people easily mistook as being lovers. 

The real problem was the fact that somewhere along the line, Dean’s heart had made the same mistake.  He didn’t know when it happened, but somewhere after picking Sam up at Stanford he’d stopped looking at his little brother and started appreciating the man he’d become.  In ways Dean was entirely uncomfortable with (like when he was in the shower with his hand wrapped around his cock).  They hadn’t shared a bed in years but Dean really didn’t trust himself to keep the line between reality and fantasy (yes Sam, in this case he really was having trouble keeping reality and porn separate).

“Dean, don’t be stupid.  The bed is plenty big enough.  We used to share all the time when we were little.”

“Little being the operative word, little brother.”

Sam’s eyes tightened up as Dean spoke, and he realized his mistake a little too late.  He only called him little brother when things were bad, like during a hunt and Sam had been strangled (or beaten/shot/thrown/kicked/kidnapped/strangled.  Yeah, he said strangled twice.  The kid had a knack for getting into trouble like that.).  The choice of what bed to lie in should not have been that big a deal.

“Dean, is there a problem with you sleeping in a big comfortable bed?”

Dean let out a deep breath and steeled himself.  “No, not at all.”  And he climbed into the big damn bed that just made him think more incestuous thoughts and had him turning his back stiffly.

There was some sort of amused chuckle from Sam but Dean ignored it. “Really, Dean, I’m not going to attack you in your sleep.”

“With all that hand holding and kissing today, who knows what’s going around in that head of yours?”

And really, he should learn when to keep his mouth shut.  Sam didn’t say anything back though and Dean just took that as a win.  Maybe Sam was beginning to realize how uncomfortable he’d made Dean, just not the reasons for it.  He didn’t care if Sam thought he was a homophobic asshole at the moment, just so long as he didn’t realize the truth.

Minutes passed and Sam didn’t say anything.  He wasn’t sleeping yet, Dean knew that without having to look.  He let out a deep breath and finally relaxed.  He was almost asleep when he felt Sam shift on the bed next to him.  He didn’t think anything of it when Sam’s hand came up to rest on his hip, his brother spooning up behind him in reverse of what they’d done as children.

“Remember when Dad used to take us on survival trails and just leave us?” Sam whispered next to Dean’s ear.  “We’d have two or three days to get out on our own, a week or two as we got older?” 

“Yeah, Sammy.”

“I always bitched about it, but I loved being out like that with you, just the two of us.  I knew I was safe with you there.”

Sam pressed his lips to the skin just beneath Dean’s ear and he shivered.  He meant to say something but then Sam was talking again, his hand moving across Dean’s stomach in soothing circles like Dean used to do when Sam was sick.

“Even when it was hot as hell, I’d ask you to come lay down with me and you never said no.  You always got the fire the way you wanted it, and then came over and laid down behind me, making sure my back was always covered even if it meant leaving you exposed.”

“Always got your back,” Dean mumbled.  He should stop Sam, he knew it, but it felt good having Sam pressed up against him even if Dean had to fight the urge to arch back into his brother.  Sam’s hand was running across his stomach, fingers trailing the waistband of Dean’s boxers. 

“You never thought anything of your kid brother wanting you to protect him, but Dean, I didn’t needed protection back then, hadn’t in a long time.” 

Dean’s breath hitched as Sam’s palm rested on his stomach, pressing him back against Sam.  He could feel Sam’s hard length pressed up against his ass just as Sam’s fingers slid under his waistband and wrapped around his cock. 

“Sammy, no.”  It wasn’t convincing, his voice was too breathy and he hadn’t tried to push Sam away. 

“I’ve spent years watching you, Dean.  I know what’s been bothering you today and you have no idea how hard it was not to drag you back here and finally get my hands on you.”  His fingers were stroking Dean’s length and his hips were shifting subtly against Dean and god he had no defenses against getting what he actually wanted.

“Sammy,” there was no denial in him this time, just his broken voice giving Sam permission to take what he wanted.  He had no idea if they would be able to make this work, but if Sam wanted to rip his heart to shreds, he was gonna get that chance.

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam pulled Dean onto his back and leaned closer. 

Dean had time to pull away but instead he reached a hand up to Sam’s neck and pulled him all the way down, lips meeting in a desperate kiss.  Sam’s body was vibrating with the tension of it and Dean just kept hold, kissing Sam, exploring his taste and the textures of his mouth, until Sam was relaxed above him.

Sam pulled back long enough to get rid of their boxers and Dean got a good long look at his brother.   He knew his brother’s body almost as well as a lover would.  He knew that Sam was sensitive just above the right hipbone and on his lower back.  He knew he hated being touched at the crook of his knees and elbows.  And he knew Sam had always been sensitive to being touched.  Even as a baby Sam had been calmed by Dean’s small hands on his back.  Taking a look at him like this though, seeing all of Sam’s flaws, the scars (most of which Dean had painstakingly stitched himself) and bruises, just made him more beautiful.  No one else – no one – would ever look at Sam’s scars and know the miracle of what they meant.  Each one was a testament that his brother was alive, that he was a survivor, that he was strong and dangerous in his own right.  When he met his brother’s eyes he was surprised – and turned on – by the predatory look there.

“My bag,” Dean’s voice was barely a croak but he was too strung out by the moment to care.  Sam might tease him later but if that was the most embarrassing thing he did tonight he’d call it a win.  “Condoms and lube.”

Sam’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t expected Dean to make that offer but he quickly rifled through Dean’s bag to find what he needed.  He dropped them both on the side of the bed and then he was on his knees, leaning over Dean.  He didn’t press himself against his brother, just leaned in close enough that they were sharing body heat.  It was too intimate, with Sam just staring into his eyes so Dean wrapped his feet around Sam’s knees and used his thighs to pull Sam down to him.  Sam moaned at the friction their bodies caused and Dean smiled up at him.  “Come on, Sammy, fuck me already.”

Sam shuddered over him and Dean leaned up, kissing the long expanse of Sam’s neck.  He let his hands run over Sam’s back, loving the feel of his brother writhing against him.

He groaned when Sam pulled away but then Sam was grabbing the lube and Dean pulled his knees up, spreading his thighs wider.  Sam’s wet fingers trailed over Dean’s balls, making him moan softly, before they moved down to this opening.  Sam teased around it, pressing against him with the flat of his finger but not actually pressing hard enough to breach him. 

“Sam!”  It was as much of a demand as Dean was able to voice at that point but Sam’s amused laugh – darker and deeper than normal – was followed by the press of Sam’s finger and the stretch of muscle opening to him.

“Fuck, look at you, Dean, opening up for me like that.”  He started to pull his finger back and Dean couldn’t help but shift his hips to help Sam.  He pushed back against Sam’s hand when he started pressing back in and then he started to fuck Dean in earnest.  Dean’s fingers were clenched in the sheets and Sam was murmuring, not words but soothing, turned on sounds that made Dean’s cock thick and heavy.

He felt the stretch of another finger and Sam barely had that in him before he was adding a third.  “Jesus, Sam.”

“Know you can take it,” Sam whispered as he worked his fingers in Dean’s ass.  “Fuck, want to be inside you, Dean.  I know you want it too, the way you’re riding my fingers.”

And hell, he knew Sam was a talker but he’d never expected that to follow into his sex life.  If asked he’d have taken Sam to be the quiet in sack, only with the lights off kinda guy.  Sam was blowing his illusions left and right and he was more than okay with it.  Especially the way Sam’s voice, all rock gut rough, made him feel.

“Yeah, come on Sammy.  Want it, I can take it.”

Sam moved down on the bed, fingers still working Dean, but then his breath was trailing over Dean’s cock and his tongue was licking at the head and Dean was babbling nonsense and didn’t care.

Sam’s mouth was around him, sucking him and then his fingers found Dean’s prostate and his hips were up off the bed.  Sam chocked around his cock but before Dean could think to apologize he was opening up and taking him down again, moaning like he’d just been waiting for Dean to fuck his mouth.  He was too far gone then to stop himself and he was thrusting up into Sam and then back onto his fingers. 

“Gonna come,” he moaned to his brother.

Sam pulled off him and then his fingers were gone.  “Not yet you aren’t,” Sam answered as he shifted up onto his knees.  Sam had his cock pressed against Dean and he took a deep breath, relaxing as Sam pushed past the resistant ring of muscles.  Sam didn’t stop to let him adjust, just kept going until he was bottomed out, balls pressed to Dean’s ass, his fingers digging bruises into Dean’s thighs.

He wasn’t going to last long, no way in hell with the way Sam had him so damn sensitive already.  Sam leaned over him, bringing their lips together and as Sam’s tongue flicked out, licking at Dean’s lower lip, he began thrusting his hips.

Dean moaned into his brother’s mouth but he wasn’t the only one.  They weren’t kissing anymore, just sharing breath as Sam stared down at Dean, Dean looking up at Sam, too vulnerable and open but unable to stop himself.  He’d fantasized about this, built it up in his head, but the feel of Sam inside him was nothing like he’d prepared himself for.  He was split open, body and soul, to the only person in the world that would ever be able to do that to him.

Sam wasn’t any less affected.  It was all in his eyes, in the angle of his jaw, and tension in his face.  “Dean,” Sam whispered.

“Please,” was his only response because Dean needed whatever Sam wanted to give him.

Sam pulled up then, pulled out and before Dean could moan over the loss, Sam had him flipped onto his hands and knees.  Sam entered him from behind, pulling Dean up until he was resting on Sam’s thighs, his back to Sam’s chest.  Sam thrust up and Dean slid down his cock and god this was sweet torture.   Sam’s hand was on his cock though and all he could do was fuck himself harder, using Sam’s cock and hand to get himself off.

It didn’t take long and he was coming all over Sam’s hand, moaning his brother’s name.  Sam pushed him down onto his stomach and with a few hard thrusts, he screamed Dean’s name to the ceiling.

 He flinched when Sam pulled out, too sensitive to ignore the burn of it, but after a second, Sam was back with a cool washcloth, cleaning him up.  Dean didn’t move; just let Sam take care of him with his huge ass hands and his gentle shushing noises. 

When Sam was done, he pulled Dean onto his side, spooning up behind him again.

“Not going to be able to walk in the morning, let alone hunt,” Dean grumbled.

“Ghost isn’t killing anyone.  I plan on keeping you in bed all day tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” 

Dean was just about asleep again when Sam’s hand began rubbing over his stomach.  “Dean?”

“Yeah Sam?”

“Best hunt ever.”

Dean wrapped his fingers in Sam’s, watching them entwined, like that was important, like that was how they were supposed to be.  “Yeah Sammy, best hunt ever.”

 

 


End file.
